


Amiculus

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-13
Updated: 2006-03-12
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Archer and crew mourn the loss of a friend then find a surprise when they answer a distress call. (09/22/2003)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: The story takes place before any of the events of 2.26 "The Expanse."  
  
The title of this story means "a dear friend" in Latin. Really struggled namin' this one! This is a bit more character centered then adventure so I hope you enjoy it!  


* * *

Captain Jonathan Archer stood outside his friend's quarters. He hesitated, afraid to enter. Every single night since Trip's death two months ago, Jon had done the same thing but had never opened the door. To step over the threshold into the empty room would mean it was true. Trip was dead.

The captain keyed in his code and the door slid open with a gust. He swallowed then stepped in, the door sliding shut behind him. He had tried to be strong for his crew, knowing they didn't need to see him fall apart but now that he was alone with Trip's memory, he felt the walls begin to crumble.

Jon looked around the room at Trip's pictures, his awards, all of his old books. Slowly the captain moved, running his hand over the desk where his friend had spent countless hours writing letters home, studying schematics, or compiling reports. His eyes settled on a picture of them both with A.G. Robinson and he smiled sadly. Two friends lost, he thought.

Finally Jon moved to the bunk and sat down. On the pillow lying as if it was tossed there in haste, was a data padd. Jon picked it up and flicked it on. Trip's to-do list stared back at him, all of his friend's plans that he would never be able to complete.

Jon clutched the padd to his chest then dropped his head and sobbed, all of his carefully held control completely gone.

* * *

Sub-commander T'Pol turned out her light and slipped under the covers in her bunk. She gazed out at the single candle she'd left burning since his death. The flame flickered as she watched it, as she allowed herself to remember him. Two months had passed since the explosion that had taken his life but T'Pol still could not extinguish the flame. To do so would acknowledge that Commander Charles Tucker III was indeed gone.

She closed her eyes and remembered. They'd been on an away mission to the city of Koltas in the northern hemisphere of the tiny planet, Pilo Medra. Captain Archer had been excited for the first "first contact" they'd had in weeks.

T'Pol opened her eyes and stared at the flame again. She could clearly see in her mind's eye the commander walking away from her, busily chatting with two Medran scientists who were taking him to see one of their very early warp engine designs. She could see him entering the tiny building, turning once to look back with a smile. T'Pol finally decided that it had only been 2.25 minutes before the explosion had occurred. Before her life and every other life on Enterprise had been irreversibly changed.

The sub-commander pulled her covers up under her chin and watched the candle burn.

* * *

"Two months to the day," sighed Ensign Travis Mayweather. He looked across the mess hall table at his companion, Ensign Hoshi Sato. "And I still can't make myself believe he's really gone."

Hoshi nodded. "I know," she replied quietly. "I miss him."

Travis pushed away his untouched late night snack. "So do I. I still catch myself looking for him when I go down to engineering. I remember that first day aboard ship, Lieutenant Reed and I caught him polishing away a smudge on the warp core." Travis shook his head with a smile. "He loved that engine."

"I wonder how his family's doing?" pondered Hoshi.

Travis shrugged. "Telling them couldn't have been an easy call for the captain to make. He and the commander were like brothers."

Hoshi brushed away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "How do we move passed this?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"You just do, Ensign."

Travis turned to see Dr. Phlox standing behind him.

The Denobulan took a chair. "Commander Tucker would want you to," he continued gently. "He loved life so I know he wouldn't want you spending yours grieving for him." Phlox looked down at his hands where they lay folded neatly on the table. "But I too still struggle with his loss."

* * *

Two months to the day thought Lieutenant Malcolm Reed as he stopped pedaling the stationary bike. He looked around at the empty gym, visions of his friend bombarding him. Malcolm had never known anyone like Trip Tucker before and he knew he would never again. Trip was simply one of a kind and Malcolm felt blessed to have known such a kind soul.

The lieutenant grabbed his towel from the handlebars and wiped his forehead. He remembered vividly the explosion and how he and T'Pol had grabbed the captain before he had plunged headlong into the burning building to save his friend. Archer had let loose a gut-wrenching scream as they had watched the building disintegrate before them.

Malcolm felt the now familiar burn of tears in his eyes and he tried to blink them away. He missed his friend horribly. He put the towel to his face and let the tears fall.

* * *

"Jon, you need to take more time before you make this kind of decision."

The captain stared at the face of Admiral Maxwell Forrest displayed on his ready room monitor. "I've had two months, Admiral. I don't think I can do this anymore."

"Jon."

"No," sighed the captain. "There were two people in my life who I shared this dream with and now they're both gone. It doesn't mean as much to me without them."

"Do you really think your dad and Commander Tucker would want you to resign?"

Jon shrugged in reply, suddenly unable to speak.

"Turn the ship over to Sub-commander T'Pol for a while, Jon. Take some time for yourself. If you still want to resign, then we'll talk about it again."

The captain nodded. "I don't think I'll change my mind, Admiral."

The image of his commanding officer disappeared. Jon sat back in his chair, feeling the emotions from the night before crashing over him again.

"Bridge to Captain Archer."

Jon sniffed and wiped at his nose. "Go ahead."

"I've picked up a distress call, sir," came Hoshi's reply.

Jon sighed. "I'll be right out."

As he entered the bridge, his eyes met Hoshi's.

"It's Medran, sir. It just keeps repeating that they're in distress," the ensign replied. She pressed her earpiece then shook her head. "That's all it says."

Jon turned to T'Pol. "Anything on our scanners?"

"Yes. The ship is approximately twelve hours behind us at warp 4," the sub-commander replied. Her fingers tapped at her keyboard. "I detect no other vessels in the vicinity."

"Okay," said Jon. He sat in his chair. "Travis turn us around and take us to warp 4.5. Lets see if we can help."

* * *

Malcolm looked at the tiny ship displayed on the front view screen then gazed down at his readings. "It appears to be a cargo hauler, Captain. I detect no heavy weaponry," he reported. "All compartments have been depressurized except for one."

Archer turned to the sub-commander. "Any life signs?" he asked.

T'Pol nodded. "Yes. I'm picking up nine, none of which are Medran." She stopped suddenly, staring at her screen. "Captain—."

Malcolm looked across the bridge at the Vulcan science officer. Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to stare at her monitor.

"T'Pol?" prompted Archer. He stood and moved to her side, peering over her shoulder.

"One of the life signs, Captain—," T'Pol replied. "—is Human."

"Human?" asked Travis. He turned his head to look at Malcolm, his eyes conveying the slight hope that the lieutenant felt rising in his stomach.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Captain," replied T'Pol. She tapped a few keys then looked up at Archer. "It's Commander Tucker."

Malcolm watched the captain grab the back of T'Pol's chair for support. "Trip?" he whispered. "Hail them, Hoshi."

There was a long silence.

"I'm getting no response, sir."

Archer moved down quickly to stand beside Travis. "Dock with them," he directed.

"Aye, Captain."

Malcolm struggled to calm his heart rate. "But how can it be Trip—Commander Tucker?" he asked of no one in particular.

"I don't know, Malcolm. But lets find out," replied Archer. "Can we use the transporter to get them out of there?"

"I wouldn't recommend it, Captain," said T'Pol. "The life signs are unstable. Some of them might not survive, including the commander."

Archer nodded with a grimace. "Then get Hess and an engineering team over there to re-pressurize that ship."


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that Jon noticed when he stepped through to the other ship was the smell of death in the air. He walked beside Malcolm who had his phase pistol holstered at his side.

"Commander Tucker's bio signs are in that direction, Captain," said Dr. Phlox who came up beside him. "As are the other eight."

"Lead the way, Malcolm," directed Jon.

The three walked up the corridor then turned a corner and stopped. There were two Medrans on the floor. Phlox didn't need to confirm what Jon already knew. The two men were quite clearly dead. They continued up the corridor, which finally ended at a large door. Lieutenant Anna Hess and three other engineers were busy at the entry panel.

"We've got it, sir," said Hess. She stood back and Malcolm moved forward, pistol drawn, and pushed the entry button.

"Oh Lord," whispered the armory officer. Jon stepped around him to look into the room. The walls were lined with bunks some of which contained people who now sat up and looked at them with wide eyes.

"Over there, Captain," said Phlox, motioning to their left.

Jon could feel his heart pounding mercilessly as he walked into the room. He could see a figure wrapped in a blanket on one of the bunks, blond hair visible above the covers. He knelt beside the bed and carefully pulled back the blanket exposing the face of his chief engineer.

"Trip," he gasped. Jon tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as he reached out a hand to gently push back his friend's filthy hair. "Trip, I'm here. We're all here."

The commander opened unfocused eyes and stared at the captain without recognition.

"Doc?" asked Jon.

"He's running a high fever, Captain," replied Phlox. "We need to get him back to the ship."

"You're Captain Archer?"

Jon turned his head to see a humanoid male climb out of his bunk. The man was dressed in rags, his bare feet visible below pants that hung on his gaunt frame.

"Trip didn't think you were coming. He'd given up," continued the man. The others all rose from their beds and stood in a half circle around the other. They were all horribly thin, just skin covering bone.

"We thought he was dead," replied Jon.

"Captain, we must get Commander Tucker back to the ship immediately. I need to get his fever down," said Phlox tightly. The Denobulan stood. "Lieutenant Reed, can you and the others help these people to sickbay?"

"Of course, Doctor," replied Malcolm.

"Good," Phlox said as he knelt beside Trip again. He pulled the blanket back to reveal the commander's frail form. "We need a stretcher."

"No," said Jon. "I've got him." The captain gently lifted his friend into his arms, cradling him against his chest. He was shocked at how light Trip was and how much heat was radiating from his body. The commander mumbled something in delirium.

"Easy, Trip," soothed Jon. "Take it easy. You're safe now. I promise."

* * *

As the eight survivors were settled onto bio beds by med technicians, Malcolm watched in stunned silence as Dr. Phlox cut away Trip's clothing. He felt physically ill at his friend's appearance, ribs and hipbones jutting out from pale flesh. Malcolm glanced up at Archer who stood gripping one bony hand in his, the shock plain on his ashen face.

"Dear God, Trip," the captain gasped as Phlox carefully covered the engineer with a sheet.

"Please step aside, Captain," directed the doctor. But Archer remained frozen, staring down at the commander. "Captain, please," Phlox said with more force.

Archer released Trip's hand then backed away to stand next to Malcolm.

"How is he?"

Malcolm turned to see Sub-commander T'Pol appear at Archer's elbow. Her usually unreadable features showed very briefly her own shock at the commander's gaunt form before she regained her control.

"We don't know yet," replied Archer. He cleared his throat then looked down at T'Pol. "What did they find on the ship?"

"A total of fifteen bodies. We have yet to ascertain what exactly happened."

"I can tell you that."

They all turned to the man who'd spoken to them on the hauler. He was lying propped up on a bio bed, a tube inserted in his arm.

Archer moved to his bedside. "Please do," he said with a nod. "Mr.—?"

"My name is Saltar Adremis. I'm from the Zor system as are the others. We were no more than slaves on that ship, Captain. My ship. If it hadn't been for Trip, we would be still." Saltar gazed over at the commander. "The Medrans drugged him. Kidnapping isn't usually their way but they needed an engineer and Trip fit the bill."

"You said the ship was yours?" asked T'Pol.

"Yes. The Medrans were pirates. They boarded us when we were picking up cargo in Koltas about six months ago," Saltar paused. "Why didn't you come for Trip?"

"They destroyed the building. We thought he was dead," said Malcolm from where he stood at the foot of Trip's bed.

Saltar nodded. "He wondered why. He did hold out hope for a long time, Captain."

"What happened to him, Saltar?" asked Archer.

"He was brought aboard the hauler, the Kapeer, and dumped in with all of us in our shared quarters. Like the rest of us, he was made to work long hours day in and day out. We were given small amounts of water throughout our shifts but only two meals a day and they were only dried bread and broth." Saltar smiled sadly. "He always split his rations with us. He said we'd been there longer and that he could stand to lose a few pounds anyway."

Archer shook his head and looked over at his friend with affection. "That sounds like Trip," he said quietly.

"They never broke his spirit, Captain. All the punishment he took—," Saltar's voice faltered suddenly and he looked down.

The captain placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder.

"They were always careful not to break any bones. That way he wouldn't lose time away from his job," explained Saltar. He expelled a breath. "Anyway, Trip started hatching a plan almost immediately."

"Depressurize the ship," stated T'Pol.

Saltar nodded. "He had to work slowly since he was always being watched but he somehow did it. Five days ago, though, we got word that all of us except Trip were going to be replaced. We'd gotten too weak to do our jobs. Three had already died. Of course we all knew we would never be released so Trip decided he had to take a big risk. He overrode the door controls and snuck out during the night to finish the work. He was caught as he was heading back and punished severely by Toss, Kapeer's commanding officer. The next night, the red light went on above our door signaling that the outer corridor had lost pressure. Trip said that the distress beacon would go on-line automatically so then it just became a waiting game." Saltar looked over at the commander again. "He just got sicker and sicker as the hours passed and we were helpless to do anything for him."

Malcolm turned his attention back to Trip. He shook his head in wonderment at what his friend had endured and said a silent prayer that Phlox had some medical magic up his sleeve that would save Trip's life. He wasn't about to mourn a second time.

* * *

The sounds and the smells were familiar, oddly comforting to him.

"Commander?"

Trip knew that voice. But Dr. Phlox wasn't onboard the Kapeer.

"Trip? Come on Trip. Time to wake up."

Another familiar voice, but how, Trip wondered. He struggled to open his eyes but they wouldn't cooperate. He felt a warm hand take his and squeeze it gently.

"Come on, Trip."

Trip tried to force his eyes to open again and this time he succeeded only to have them slide shut again. Maybe he'd just sleep a little longer, he decided.

"Open your eyes, Commander. That's an order."

"Cap'n?"

The hand squeezed his again. "Yes, Trip."

The engineer opened his eyes then squinted against the bright light. "Where am I?" he asked breathlessly.

"You're safe on Enterprise, Commander," said Phlox. His face hovered into view and Trip managed to make out his features.

"Hey Doc."

"Welcome back, Trip," said Archer. "You gave us all quite a scare."

Trip turned his head and squinted up at his friend and commanding officer. "Saltar and the others?" he asked, his voice raspy to his own ears.

"They're all fine. I think Travis and Hoshi have them in the mess hall for lunch but I'm sure they'll be anxious to see you." Another face appeared in his peripheral vision and Trip turned. "Hey Sub-commander."

T'Pol stepped forward. "Commander. I trust that you're feeling better?"

"I think I'll live," Trip replied with a weak smile. He looked at Archer. "How long have I been here?"

"Just over a week," the captain responded. "It was touch and go there for a while but thanks to the good doctor here, you're on the mend."

"Thanks, Doc," rasped Trip. He swallowed. "I'm awful thirsty."

To his surprise, T'Pol picked up a glass from a tray next to the bed and carefully held the straw to his lips. She reached down and lifted his head so that he could drink.

"Not too much, Sub-commander," warned Phlox.

T'Pol pulled the straw away and returned the glass to the tray.

"Thanks," said Trip.

The science officer just tipped her head in acknowledgement and clasped her hands behind her back.

"We thought you were dead," said Archer, his voice catching. He still held Trip's hand firmly.

Trip squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again. "The last think I remember before waking up on the Kapeer was entering that building in Koltas. After that, the lights just went out."

"They blew the building. They lead us all to believe that you were killed in the blast," explained Archer. "For two months we thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry."

Archer smiled down at him. "For what?"

Trip shrugged weakly then fell silent for a moment. "What about my family?" he asked suddenly.

"Don't worry. I've already gotten word to Admiral Forrest. You're family knows you're alive. I think Hoshi's received dozens of messages for you already," Archer smiled. "I was able to speak to your mom personally just last night. She made me swear to keep you on Enterprise for the rest of the mission. No more away missions for my son, Jonathan, she said."

Trip chuckled then coughed softly.

"My patient needs his rest, you two. He's still a very sick young man," chimed in Dr. Phlox.

Archer put Trip's hand down at his side then patted his shoulder. "I'll be back later to check in on you," he said quietly then he paused and smiled gently. "Those were two very rough months, Trip. Don't ever do that to me again. Do you understand?"

Trip grinned weakly. "Aye, Cap'n," he replied.

"I would recommend you follow the doctor's every request, Commander. To state the obvious, Lieutenant Hess is a very capable engineer but she is not you," said T'Pol.

"Oh no need to worry, Sub-commander. Mr. Tucker will follow all my orders to the letter or I will not release him from sickbay," grinned Phlox. He then pressed a hypo spray to Trip's neck and the engineer's world went dark.

* * *

T'Pol watched as the commander slipped into sleep. She was still quite distressed by his outward appearance, the darkness around his eyes, the hollowness of his cheeks, and the pallor of his skin. She noted how starkly his collarbones stood out and how thin his shoulders appeared. She knew it would take a very long time for Tucker to return to his normal level of physical fitness. She wondered briefly how long it would take for him to recover his former level of mental and emotional fitness as well.

"I should go check on our guests," said Archer, his gaze still settled on the commander.

"I will accompany you, Captain. There is something I wish to discuss," said T'Pol.

Archer patted Tucker's shoulder again. "Sleep well, Trip," he said softly. "Take good care of him, Doc."

"Of course, Captain," replied Phlox with a wide smile.

"What did you want to talk to me about, T'Pol?" asked Archer as they walked out of sickbay side by side.

"I spoke with Saltar and the others this morning. They would like to return to their home world in the Zor system. I have calculated that it will take us seven days at warp 4.5 to accomplish this."

Archer nodded. "I'd like nothing more than to return these people to their homes, Sub-commander," he replied.

"I will give the coordinates to the helm then, sir."

"Was there anything else?" asked Archer.

"Saltar told me about a planet in his system that sounds very similar to Earth. If I recall correctly, the commander is quite fond of—camping, is he not?"

"Trip loves to camp. What are you getting at?"

"Commander Tucker will need considerable time for recovery and after the last two months, I am quite certain the crew is also in need of some time to recover. They were all quite disconcerted by Mr. Tucker's supposed death."

"Are you suggesting shore leave?" asked Archer.

"Yes, Captain."

"Well I'll have to clear it with Phlox, of course, but I think that's a great idea," smiled the captain. "I assume you'll be joining us?"

"Unlike the commander, I am not overly fond of—camping, Captain," T'Pol replied. She paused for a moment. "But I am not entirely opposed to the idea."

"Good. I'll see what Phlox thinks when I check in on Trip this afternoon then."

"One more thing, Captain," continued T'Pol. "I received word back from Pilo Medra just before I joined you in sickbay. They're sending out a ship to pick up the Kapeera. The government also assured me that they would investigate the piracy and put a halt to it. They offered their sincerest apologies to the commander and to the others as well."

Archer sighed. "That's good news, Sub-commander. Very good news."

T'Pol left the captain and went to her quarters, choosing meditation over her mid-day meal.

As she entered, her eyes fell upon the candle she had lit two months ago. She had chosen to keep the flame burning until she was certain Commander Tucker would survive. Now she stepped over to it, cupped her hand behind the flame and blew it out. An odd sense of calm washed over her as she watched the tiny plume of smoke rise then slowly dissipate in the air. Her life was in balance once again.


	3. Chapter 3

"Please inform your chef that he did an outstanding job," sighed Saltar as he sat back in his chair.

Travis grinned. "I'll be sure to tell him," he replied. He looked around at his seven other guests. "Anyone for seconds?"

A series of groans was his only reply. Travis and Hoshi exchanged amused looks.

"How was your meal?"

Travis immediately began to stand at the sound of the captain's voice but he felt a hand on his shoulder pushing him back down.

"At ease, Ensign," said Archer kindly.

"I was just telling Travis and Hoshi here, Captain, that your chef outdid himself. Even though per Dr. Phlox our meals are to be bland and easily digestible, they're still far better than dried bread and Medran broth," replied Saltar with a smile.

Archer chuckled. "I would imagine so." The captain took a seat next to Hoshi. "Sub-commander T'Pol tells me you want to go home."

"Is that possible?" asked Saltar. He looked at each of his comrades. "We'd all love to go home, Captain. We have family and friends we haven't seen for months. They probably all believe we're dead."

"I've given the order to release the docking clamps on the Kapeera, we're setting her adrift as we speak. T'Pol will give the coordinates to the helm and we'll be on our way. You could probably talk to the Medran government about claiming your property later."

"Thank you, Captain," said Saltar. He reached out and took Archer's hand with enthusiasm. "But I have no more interest in the Kapeera. I just want to see my family again."

"You're very welcome," replied the captain then he stood. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to let Star Fleet know that my crew is going to be taking some well deserved shore leave." "Shore leave, sir?" asked Hoshi with a smile. "Am I to assume then that the commander—."

"—is going to be fine. He just woke up a little while ago."

"So we're taking Commander Tucker on shore leave, sir?" asked Travis.

Archer nodded. "Seems there's a planet in the Zor system that has our name on it, Ensign."

Travis watched his commanding officer leave then he turned back to Saltar. "So tell us about this planet," he asked unable to hide his excitement.

"Well if it's the one I told your sub-commander about this morning, then you're in for a great time, Travis. There's mountains, forests, beaches, deserts, you name it, Zor Peglos has it!"

"Is it heavily populated?" asked Hoshi.

Saltar shook his head. "That's why it's such an ideal place for a vacation. There are small villages but no big metropolises," he explained then he smiled. "Don't worry, Hoshi. There'll be plenty of opportunity for you to learn our language."

Hoshi laughed. "Am I that transparent?" she asked.

Travis merely nodded his head and smiled at her.

* * *

"Let me help, Cap'n," insisted Trip.

Jon looked over to where his friend was seated in a camp chair. "No, Trip," he replied. "You're here to rest and relax. I can put the tent up on my own."

"Sure you can."

"What was that, Commander?"

"I said I'm sure you can, sir," replied Trip with a grin.

Jon shook his head then returned his attention to the tent. Thirty minutes later he was still struggling.

"Cap'n," said Trip who'd come up beside him.

Jon conceded his loss and gratefully stepped aside, letting his friend take over. Within minutes, Trip had the tent up and ready. The commander stepped back and assessed his handiwork then he turned and threw Jon a lopsided grin.

"You're a damn fine engineer, Trip," Jon said. "Now I think you need to sit down." He moved forward and took Trip's elbow and led him back to his chair. The commander was breathing hard and his face glowed with perspiration. He sat down without protest so Jon knew he had exhausted himself.

The captain looked at his friend, noting how his clothes hung on his thin frame. The seven days of bed rest had worked miracles for the engineer but he still had a long way to go for a complete recovery. Phlox had grudgingly agreed to allow Trip the shore leave but only with the condition that the commander check in with him three times a day. The Denobulan had accompanied Hoshi and several others to one of the nearby villages choosing to sleep in a bed rather than in a sleeping bag so Jon knew he was close by in case Trip needed him.

"Quit worrying about me, Cap'n."

Jon smiled, realizing he'd been staring at his friend. He reached down and patted Trip's shoulder gently. "Part of my job, Trip," he said quietly.

"Well then it's a part of your job you take far too seriously," Trip replied without rancor.

"And that, my friend, will never change."

Jon turned to see his armory officer approaching.

"How's everything over here?" Malcolm asked.

"Cap'n needed some help with the tent, but I think we're good to go now."

"Everyone getting settled?" asked Jon after giving Trip a dirty look.

Malcolm nodded. "Travis and I have our tent up as do Ensigns Martin and Rowe. I think the shuttle pod should be bringing the sub-commander, Crewman Bart and Lieutenant Marx down in a while. Everyone else opted for the village or the beach."

"They don't know what they're missing," sighed Trip as he leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out.

The lieutenant smiled. "The fresh air seems to be doing you good, Commander," he said. "Now lets hope some good out door cooking will put some weight back on that skinny frame of yours."

"Trip's still on a special diet, Malcolm, so there won't be any smores or roasted marshmallows for him."

"Yep," moaned the engineer. "I'll be lucky to get a good burger while we're here."

The hum of Shuttle Pod One caught Jon's attention and he looked up to see it pass overhead. "Ah, the others have arrived."

"Captain, has Sub-commander T'Pol ever been camping before?" asked Malcolm as his eyes followed the flight of the pod.

"She mentioned participating in the—," Jon paused, searching his memory. "—the Koz Wan ritual once. She was left in the desert to survive for ten days."

"Doesn't sound like camping to me," said Trip from his chair. "Not that I'm complaining, but I wonder why she chose camping instead of the village with Hoshi and the doc?"

"You'll just have to ask her, Trip," replied Jon. He turned and grabbed his sleeping bag then moved into the tent.

"Here you are, sir," said Malcolm as he handed the engineer's bag through the tent flap.

"Thanks, Malcolm."

"I'll go help the others unload the shuttle pod," said the lieutenant then he was gone.

Jon stepped out of the tent and stretched, pulling fresh air into his lungs. He glanced over at Trip who was still reclined in his chair, staring at the blue sky through the tall trees.

"What're you thinking about?" asked Jon as he reached out and tapped Trip's leg. He settled on the ground next to his friend.

Trip smiled. "Just how grateful I am to be alive," he replied with a sigh. Then his face turned suddenly serious. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"I've just been wondering," the engineer began then stopped. He looked down.

"What is it, Trip?" Jon asked as he watched his friend.

The commander turned his head to look at the captain. "When you didn't find my remains in the building, why—," he faltered again.

"Why didn't we think something was up?"

Trip nodded.

"T'Pol and her team ran over every inch of those ashes for six days straight, Trip, looking for any sign of human DNA as well as Medran DNA. They just couldn't find anything," Jon explained. "We weren't given any reason to doubt the Medrans. They seemed just as distraught as we were at the loss of their people. They searched right along side T'Pol."

The commander looked down again, contemplating his hands.

"I'm sorry, Trip."

"I know you did everything you could, Cap'n," Trip replied quietly.

"But knowing that doesn't make what happened any easier, does it?"

Trip shook his head but remained silent.

"We never ventured very far from Pilo Medra during those two months. I guess subconsciously we all held out hope for a miracle. I know every night I was asking for one," said Jon gently.

"So was I," replied Trip with a soft snort then he fell quiet again.

Jon placed his hand on his friend's forearm. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Trip nodded. "Admiral Forrest left me a message. He said you considered resigning." Trip looked up at Jon. "Is that right?"

"Yep. Didn't want to do this without my chief engineer," Jon replied.

Trip looked surprised. "Really?"

Jon patted his arm. "Everything lost meaning out here for me when I thought you died, Trip. I didn't realize how much I relied on our friendship to get me through; how much this was our vision, not just mine."

The engineer smiled. "Thanks. I guess I always figured I was the only one who felt that way."

"Nope. I know I never say so, but this friendship we share means a great deal to me, Trip. Don't ever doubt that or forget that, okay?"

Trip nodded. "Thanks, Cap'n."

Jon smiled warmly then he stood up. "I'm going to check on the others. Will you be okay here alone?"

"Yeah," Trip replied around a yawn. "I think I'll lay down for a while."

"Need some help?"

The commander stood up and stretched. "Nah, I'll be fine."

Jon watched as his friend disappeared into the tent. He waited a few moments then peered through the flap. Trip was already sound asleep, lying on his back on top of his sleeping bag. The captain closed the flap then headed down to where the shuttle had landed.

* * *

T'Pol knelt down by the bubbling stream and dipped her hand in the water. As the cool liquid flowed over and between her fingers, she decided there were certain pleasurable aspects of camping. The morning sun shone through the trees creating aesthetically pleasing streams of light. She watched for a moment as the water shimmered and danced under the bright beams then she rose to her feet.

As T'Pol turned to walk along the bank, she noticed Commander Tucker sitting with his back against a large tree several meters upstream. She hesitated in approaching him, as it appeared the engineer was deep in thought. Then he looked up catching her eyes and smiled. T'Pol walked up the bank to where he sat.

"Morning, T'Pol," Tucker greeted.

"Commander," the sub-commander replied. "Did you sleep well?"

Tucker nodded. "How about you?"

"I found the ground to be quite dense."

"I grew up camping with some of my buddies. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

T'Pol noticed the data padd lying by the commander. She knelt at his side and picked it up, studying the little screen.

"I was just catching up on some reading," offered Tucker rather sheepishly.

"These are engineering status reports for the last two months, Commander. I thought you were under strict orders from both the captain and Dr. Phlox to rest," admonished T'Pol evenly.

"I am resting, T'Pol. See, I'm just sitting here quiet as can be," Tucker replied lifting his hands for dramatic effect.

T'Pol settled herself on the ground. "As you no doubt have already discovered, your staff did an admirable job in your absence," she said then she handed him the padd.

"I know. I'm really proud of them."

The Vulcan looked at her companion. "Lieutenant Hess is quite anxious to have you back as is the rest of your crew."

Tucker sighed. "Doc says it'll probably be at least a couple more weeks before he'll release me to light duty. What am I supposed to do for a couple more weeks?"

"I am certain that Dr. Phlox was referring to only labor intensive activity, Commander. Perhaps when you're feeling stronger he would be receptive to allowing you to work at your desk."

"And do nothing but paperwork?" said Tucker incredulously.

"It is better than the alternative," pointed out T'Pol.

"I suppose so," relented the engineer. He leaned his head back against the tree. "Maybe I can work on some upgrades to the warp engine. See if we can get more than 5.1 out of her."

T'Pol noted the lift in the commander's voice. "If you need any assistance, I will make myself available when I am not on duty," she said.

Tucker turned his head and smiled at her. "Thanks. I might just take you up on that."

The sub-commander moved her gaze back to the stream. "We should probably return to the camp. When I left, Ensign Mayweather was just preparing breakfast. There has been ample time for him to complete his task."

The commander grunted. "Great. I'll get to sit there and eat my oatmeal, toast, and fruit while the others dine on flapjacks, bacon, and eggs. There's nothing better than breakfast cooked over an open fire, T'Pol." He paused. "Still, I'll take a good bowl of mush over that Medran cuisine we were served on the Kapeera."

T'Pol stood then reached down to help Tucker to his feet. "Perhaps you'll discover you feel better eating a healthier diet, Commander."

Tucker chuckled. "Perhaps," he replied.

They headed back up the trail toward their camp.

"I wonder how Saltar and the others are doing," pondered Tucker as they walked.

"If the party that greeted them is any indication, I would assume they are all doing quite well."

"Yeah. That was quite a sight, wasn't it," said the commander. "After what they went through, they deserved a greeting like that."

The two fell into a companionable silence. T'Pol watched her companion out of the corner of her eye and when he stumbled, she quickly grabbed his arm to steady him. He smiled his thanks then continued to walk.

"I believe I owe you an apology, Commander," T'Pol said, breaking the silence between them.

Tucker looked puzzled. "Why?"

"If I had been more diligent in my investigation—."

"No," said Tucker, shaking his head. "Don't even go there. You did everything you could, T'Pol."

"Perhaps if I'd—."

"No," the commander interrupted again with a wave of his hand. "The cap'n told me you spent six days pouring over the remains of that building. You did all you could." He stopped and turned to her. "So don't beat yourself up over it, okay?"

T'Pol nodded her head. "I will not—beat myself any longer," she replied.

Tucker smiled gently. "Good. Now I can smell breakfast from here so lets get moving."

T'Pol watched the commander move away from her, noting how very thin he still appeared. He was alive she reminded herself, and getting stronger every day. She quickly moved to catch up with him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you eat three square meals today, Commander?"

Trip stared at his communicator. "Yes, Doc. Three square meals plus snacks. By the time we leave here, I'll have to go on a diet."

"I highly doubt that, Commander," Phlox replied cheerfully. "Were you able to get some exercise?"

"Yep. Went for a nice walk this afternoon while the others swam in the lake."

"Wonderful!" chirped the doctor. "And how did you feel afterwards?"

"Pretty good," replied Trip. "I did need a nap, though."

"That's to be expected," said Phlox. "You're body is still recovering, Commander. Be patient."

"I know, Doc."

"I'll be checking in with you at the regular time in the morning. Sleep well, Commander."

"Thanks, you, too. Tucker out."

Trip flipped shut his communicator, shoved it in his backpack then stepped out of the tent. The sun was just setting and everyone was gathered around the fire. Trip wandered over and sat in his chair next to Archer.

"Everything okay?" the captain asked.

Trip nodded. "What's going on out here?"

"T'Pol was just starting to tell us about the Vulcan Koz Wan ritual," Archer replied.

"Oh yeah. Ten days in the desert?" asked Trip turning his attention to the sub-commander.

T'Pol had her head tipped as if she was listening elsewhere.

"Sub-commander?" prompted Malcolm.

"There is movement in the woods nearby," T'Pol replied.

"An animal?" asked Abby Rowe. The young ensign looked around, her eyes wide with sudden fear.

"If it is, it won't come near the fire," replied Lieutenant Lance Marx. But Trip noted the cocky engineer looked a little worried himself.

T'Pol suddenly stood, turning to face their darkened surroundings.

"Good evening."

Trip started at the sound of the deep voice. He stood and looked in the direction from which the voice came. The others immediately rose to their feet as well.

A group of five heavily armed Medrans stepped into the ring of light thrown off by the fire. They all held phase rifles and pointed them ominously at the Enterprise crew.

"Saltar said you'd be here."

"Who are you?" demanded Archer.

"Which one of you is Commander Tucker?" asked the young Medran, ignoring the captain.

"I asked you a question!" said the captain again.

The Medran grabbed Crewman Joy Bart and held the rifle to her side. "I will only ask once more, which one of you is Commander Tucker?"

Trip stepped forward. "I am, now let her go!" He felt the captain grab his wrist but he pulled it away.

"Ah, Commander," said the man as he shoved Bart away. She fell to her knees just centimeters away from the fire. The Medran quickly moved to Trip's side and motioned for him to step away from the others.

"What do you want with the commander?" asked Malcolm angrily as he helped Bart to her feet.

"Justice," replied the Medran simply. He swung his rifle, hitting Trip square in the back. The engineer dropped to his knees gasping for breath.

"Stop!" shouted Archer. He stepped toward Trip but was immediately felled by phaser fire from one of the other Medrans. He collapsed in a heap next to Trip.

"Cap'n," gasped the engineer. He reached for his friend's wrist, relieved when he felt a strong pulse.

"Take them down to the caves then seal them in," ordered the Medran leader. "We'll let them suffocate just like my sister and the rest of the Kapeera crew!"

"No, please," started Trip. He began to rise but was hit again with the rifle's butt, this time across the side of his face.

"What about Commander Tucker?" asked T'Pol firmly, standing her ground.

"The commander and I will settle things between us, Vulcan," stated the Medran. He motioned at Marx and Ensign Thomas Martin. "You two, take this one here," he said nodding at Archer's prone form.

The two officers picked up the captain between them then were herded with the others away from the fire and into the darkness, leaving Trip alone with the Medran leader. The engineer could hear Malcolm and Travis' shouts of protest as the group disappeared from view.

"You don't have to kill them," gasped Trip. He struggled to rise but was pushed down forcefully by the other man.

"Don't I?" asked the Medran. "You killed my sister, Commander. I think I deserve retribution." He eyed Trip closely. "Saltar said you were the mastermind behind their escape. You don't look very impressive."

"What did you have to do to Saltar to get that little piece of information?"

The man laughed without humor. "Lets just say his happy homecoming was all for not."

Trip looked up at the Medran in anger. "You killed him?"

"Of course."

A distant rumble split the night, momentarily distracting the Medran. Trip took the advantage and lunged at the man, catching him in the mid-section. They both tumbled to the ground then struggled fiercely with each other. Running on pure adrenaline, Trip held his own against the heavier man. He had just landed a hard blow to the Medran's jaw when he was grabbed from behind and hauled to his feet.

"You okay, Motim?"

The Medran leader stood and wiped the dirt off his clothes. Without answering his comrade, he picked up his phase rifle and swung it, catching Trip across his cheekbone. The assault continued until the commander knew only darkness.

* * *

Hoshi stepped out of her room into the warm morning sunshine. She looked across the grassy courtyard to see Dr. Phlox standing outside his room. Not liking the look on his face, the young ensign immediately jogged across to him.

"What's wrong?"

The Denobulan looked at her, his bright blue eyes full of concern. "I've been trying to hail Commander Tucker for several minutes. He's not responding."

"Have you tried the captain or Sub-commander T'Pol?"

Phlox nodded. "Yes. I'm unable to raise anyone. I've even tried Ensign Mayweather and Lieutenant Reed."

"Something's happened," said Hoshi, fear suddenly gripping her stomach.

"I agree," replied Phlox. "I think we should gather the others and get up there."

A half hour later, Shuttle Pod Two set down in a small clearing several meters from the campsite. The group of seven made their way quickly up the trail, all the crew except Phlox carrying phase pistols. They all froze momentarily when they entered the camp.

"Help me get him down," said Phlox as he rushed to Commander Tucker's side. The engineer was hanging by his wrists, a rope tossed over a tree limb holding his weight. His feet touched the ground but his legs had long ago buckled putting the burden of his body on his stretched arms.

Tucker moaned at Phlox's touch. "The others," he murmured. "Get the others."

"Where are they, Commander?" asked Hoshi as she helped the doctor hold Tucker's weight while the others untied him.

"Caves. They sealed them in the caves. Been too long. Way too long," the engineer gasped.

Phlox and Hoshi gently lowered the commander to the ground.

"Get to the others, Ensign. I'll take care of Commander Tucker," directed the doctor.

Hoshi stood up and looked at her crewmates. "Does anyone know where these caves are?" she asked hurriedly.

Crewman Michael Rostov nodded. "If I remember the map I studied correctly, they're this way," he said motioning with his hand for the others to follow.

Several long minutes later, Hoshi spied the entrance to a cave. She inhaled sharply at the sight of the debris blocking the way in.

"We're going to need a micro-detonator," breathed Crewman Sara Lars. "There's some in the pod. I'll get them." Then she turned and ran up the trail.

"Sara's good at blowing things up," said Rostov trying to ease the tension. "She's been working with the lieutenant far too long."

Hoshi nodded. "Lets see if we can start clearing some of this away while we're waiting," she said tightly. "And pray that we find them alive inside."

* * *

Oxygen had become a rare commodity. Jon forced his eyes open and listened to the labored breathing of Lieutenant Reed next to him. He felt the weight of the armory officer against his shoulder and wondered if he had finally passed out. The captain had lost track of time but he knew they'd been sitting in the darkness for several hours. His thoughts traveled to his chief engineer. Trip was no doubt dead already, thought Jon. He let his eyes slide shut, overwhelmed with his grief. He honestly didn't think he could survive losing his friend again.

"Captain Archer!"

Jon's eyes opened and he peered into the dark.

"Captain Archer! Can you hear me?"

Hoshi, Jon thought but he didn't have the breath to reply.

"We're blowing the entrance, sir!"

The captain's mind worked sluggishly. Was there anyone lying next to the entrance? He didn't think so. T'Pol had directed everyone to crawl to the back of the cave when the Medran's had set their explosives.

Jon drew his legs up to his chest and covered his head as the debris fell from the ceiling. The concussion of the blast shook the wall against which he leaned then a gust of fresh air hit him. The captain lifted his head and squinted against the bright daylight that shone through the huge hole. He inhaled deeply then, as his eyes adjusted, he looked around at his crew. He exhaled in relief when he saw everyone shifting.

"Everyone all right?" the captain called hoarsely. He struggled to his feet coughing.

The cave was filled with positive replies.

Then Hoshi was at Jon's side. "Captain," she said, helping him to stand.

"Trip?"

"Dr. Phlox is with him, sir. He's alive," the ensign replied.

After double-checking on his crew, Jon headed for the entrance. As he made his way up the trail to the campsite, he was startled to find T'Pol appear at his side. She was covered in dirt but otherwise looked unharmed.

"The commander?" she asked.

"Hoshi said he's with Phlox," Jon replied. He moved as quickly as he could, his heart jack-hammering in his chest so hard he thought certainly T'Pol could hear it.

The captain saw the Denobulan doctor first. He was bent over, his medical bag at his side. He turned and smiled when he heard Jon and T'Pol's approaching steps.

"Ah, Captain, Sub-commander," Phlox greeted. "I'm relieved to see you're both well."

Jon dropped to his knees at Trip's side. "Is he okay?"

Trip opened swollen eyes and turned his head. "Cap'n? You're all right," the engineer breathed. "T'Pol and the others?"

"I am also well, Commander," said T'Pol. She knelt beside Jon. "As are the others."

Trip closed his eyes again. "Thank God."

"How's he doing, Doc?" asked Jon. He looked over the engineer and cringed at the darkening bruises and dried blood mottling his face. White bandages damp with red encircled his wrists.

"Surprisingly well considering, Captain," replied Phlox. "There are no broken bones, just severe cuts and bruises as well as a slight concussion."

"He didn't intend for me to die, Cap'n," said Trip. "He wanted me to live with the knowledge that I was responsible for your deaths."

"Who were they? Malcolm said their leader mentioned a sister."

Trip nodded slowly. "His sister was onboard the Kapeera. Motim wanted revenge for her death."

"How did he know you were on Zor Peglos?" asked T'Pol.

The engineer opened his eyes and looked down at the Vulcan. "Saltar," he replied.

"He knew they'd go home," Jon said with sudden realization.

"Saltar's dead, Cap'n."

Jon squeezed his friend's arm. "I'm sorry, Trip," he said quietly.

"Commander!" greeted Malcolm as he entered the camp followed closely by the rest of the crew. He stood behind Jon while the others gathered around.

"Hey Malcolm. Good to see you."

"Same here, sir."

Trip struggled to sit up. "What do you say we get out of here and find us some Medrans," he grunted.

Jon put his hand on Trip's shoulder, staying the commander. "Take it easy, Trip. You need to rest." The captain turned his head. "Malcolm, contact Enterprise. See if they detected the Medran ship leaving orbit then have them find its heading."

"Yes, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

"Are they sure it was them?" asked Archer.

Malcolm nodded. "Yes, Captain."

Archer paced back and forth next to the fire pit. "Motim?"

"His remains were found in the wreckage as were the others."

The captain shook his head. "How did the Zorian military know?"

"Saltar's family and friends reported his death. The military tracked the Medran vessel here. Lieutenant Hess said the vessel took fire the minute it cleared the atmosphere. The crash site is several thousand kilometers to the south of us."

Archer swung around and faced the armory officer. "They're sure there were no survivors?"

Malcolm nodded. "There were five bodies, sir. All have been identified."

The captain's shoulders sagged slightly in his relief. "I'll tell Trip."

"How is he doing? He looked pretty beat up."

Archer glanced at the tent. "Dr. Phlox says he'll be fine. He's with him now."

Malcolm sighed then looked around. "Where are the others?"

"They're all down at the lake. Phlox shooed them away so that Trip could have some peace and quiet."

Both men's attention was diverted to the tent as the Denobulan appeared.

"How's Trip?" asked Archer.

Phlox smiled. "As I told you before, Captain, he'll be fine. I've given him a light sedative to help him relax. He seems quite distressed over Saltar's death."

"Trip has always been very protective of the people he cares about," Archer replied. "He considered Saltar a friend."

The doctor nodded in understanding. "I'll be down at the lake checking on the others if you need me, Captain."

"Thanks, Doc."

* * *

As evening fell, T'Pol found the commander sitting next to the stream. She approached him tentatively, trying to gauge his mood. He turned his head when he heard her and smiled somewhat weakly.

"Commander? Am I disturbing you?"

Tucker shook his head but said nothing. He turned his attention back to the flowing water. T'Pol settled herself next to him. They sat in companionable silence for several long moments.

"Captain Archer told me the Zorians shot down the Medran ship," T'Pol said finally. "I would have expected you to be pleased. However, you look—unsettled."

The commander picked up a small pebble from the bank and tossed it in the water. "I was just thinking about Saltar," he replied. He sat back, bracing himself with his arms.

In the fading sunlight, T'Pol could still see clearly the ugly bruises and cuts. Due to Dr. Phlox's ministrations, the swelling around the engineer's eyes had gone down significantly. Unfortunately, the Vulcan realized that the doctor could do nothing to assuage Tucker's internal pain.

"You mourn for the loss of your friend."

Tucker expelled a long breath. "Have you ever known anyone who could make you so mad you could see red but then in the next moment could support you with his very life?"

T'Pol nodded. "I mourned his loss for two months," she replied simply.

The engineer looked at her with a quizzical expression.

"You have been known to cause me great—distress, Commander."

Tucker chuckled lightly. "Yeah," he admitted sheepishly. "Sorry about that, T'Pol." He turned back to the stream. "Did you really grieve for me? I mean, I didn't know Vulcans grieved."

T'Pol noted with curiosity the slight flush of the commander's face under the bruising. "While we do not shed tears as some humans do, we do mourn the loss of those for whom we have developed affection." She hesitated, realizing what she'd said. "As well as for others who have affected our lives," she added somewhat hastily when he looked at her again.

Tucker tipped his head and eyed her closely causing her to avert her eyes to the stream. In her peripheral vision, she could see him still puzzling over what she'd said. Finally, he turned back to the stream, picking up another pebble and throwing it in the water.

"How did Saltar anger you?" T'Pol asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

"What?" asked the commander snapping out of his reverie. "Oh. When I came up with the idea of depressurizing the Kapeera, I had to work slowly so I didn't draw attention to what I was doing. Saltar wasn't exactly a patient man. He would push pretty hard. We got into a couple of confrontations but he always realized in the end that I was right." He snorted gently, lost in his memory. "He just wanted to see his wife and children again."

"At least he did that before his death. That is something, Commander."

Tucker nodded. "Yeah. That's something I guess," he conceded sadly. He turned his gaze up to the darkening sky. "You know when I stared up at the stars as a kid, I used to dream of all the wonderful things I'd get to see. It never dawned on me that there would be so much—bad stuff out here."

T'Pol followed his gaze. She could see a few bright stars already twinkling in the twilight. "As a child I too looked upon the stars."

"You're kidding."

"No. While other Vulcan children saw a sky full of possible scientific discoveries, I saw—adventures." T'Pol could see Tucker look at her from the corner of her eye. "I was not a—typical Vulcan child, Commander," she said.

"No, T'Pol," replied the engineer, his voice warm. "I would guess that you weren't."

"There you are!"

Both officers turned at the sound of Archer's voice.

The captain knelt at Tucker's other side and looked at the stream. "You're supposed to be resting, Trip," he admonished gently.

"You worry too much, Cap'n," replied Tucker. Then he waved his hand as Archer began to speak again. "I know, I know. It's part of your job."

Archer smiled. "A part I take very seriously, Trip."

T'Pol stood up and brushed off her clothes. "Has Lieutenant Reed finished preparing dinner, Captain?" she asked detecting the smell of cooking meat in the air.

"Yep. Phlox, Hoshi and the others are joining us. Should be quite a feast," Archer replied. He rose then reached down to help Tucker to his feet. "Doc says he might even let you have half a burger, Trip."

T'Pol noted how the thought of eating seared animal flesh brought a smile to the commander's face. She had long ago realized the importance of mealtime to the engineer although she still couldn't understand how he could enjoy some of the items he ate.

The sub-commander joined her fellow officers as they walked back up the trail to their camp.

* * *

Trip shifted in his sleeping bag again, struggling to find a comfortable position. His body seemed to protest every position into which he tried to settle. He grunted and rolled over again.

"Trip? You okay?"

The commander sighed. "Sorry, Cap'n. I didn't mean to wake you." Trip could hear his friend moving around in the dark.

"Phlox thought you may have trouble sleeping," whispered Archer. "He left me with a hypo spray. Now—," his voice faded. "—if I can just find it. Ah, here it is."

Trip felt a hand touch his shoulder then a brief shock of cold as Archer pressed the medical device to his neck. There was a swooshing sound as the contents were injected then the cold disappeared.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

The engineer lay quiet staring into the darkness above him. He could hear the cry of some sort of animal echo through the still night air.

"Trip?"

"Yeah?"

"You need to talk?"

Trip smiled at his friend's perception then rolled onto his side. "I was just wondering what other trouble lies in wait for us out here," he replied keeping his voice low.

"I've been wondering that myself. Seems we just can't avoid trouble, doesn't it."

"I guess it goes with the territory," Trip whispered around a big yawn. He rolled to his back again.

"I guess," Archer said. "We have seen some incredible sights, though, Trip."

The engineer yawned again. "I know, Cap'n."

"You feel up to going into the village tomorrow?"

"Sure. T'Pol going?"

"You want her to go?"

Although his thoughts were getting muddled, Trip thought he heard his friend chuckle at him.

"Trip? You want T'Pol to go?"

"Sure," Trip replied as he let his eyes slide shut. "She's not bad company, Cap'n."

"No. I guess she's not at that."

"'Sides, she never told us about that Waz Kon ritual. Waz Kon? That doesn't sound right." Trip's train of thought was interrupted by yet another wide yawn.

"Koz Wan ritual," corrected Archer. "Oh yeah. Koz Wan," Trip mumbled. "I wonder what adventures she—-," his voice trailed off.

"You wonder what?"

"Huh?"

This time Trip knew he heard Archer chuckle. "Go to sleep, Trip."

The engineer rolled onto his side feeling no more pain. "Night, Cap'n," he managed before he slid into the peaceful world of his dreams.


End file.
